Solace
by Fireflies on a Lake
Summary: Female!Obiwan/Anakin. Oneshot. We all need someone to lean on sometimes.


**Solace**

 **Disclaimer:** Star wars and Star Wars: The Clone Wars belongs to Disney and George Lucas. I make no profit from this. And a good ol' thanks to wookiepedia.

 **Warnings:** Contains flashes/references of PTSD

 **Notes:** This is set after the 'slaves of Kadavo' arc, in this AU Anakin and Ahsoka didn't get to Kadavo on time and so all the togruta were not able to be saved. It's part of the calamity verse, like other Female!Obi-wan fics that I have previously written and posted. I wrote in the present tense, to give a heightened sense of urgency, and for the challenge of it (my heads hardwired for past tense). This fic is a little more darker than my previous fics, but it contains hope at the end.

I noticed that a lot of fanfics focus on Anakin's mental health, and he is often in the position of being comforted. I realised that all Jedi fighting in the Clone Wars would have faced their own difficulties, they are not exempt from being vulnerable. So I decided to flip it on its side, and write a female!Obi-wan as the one needing comfort instead.

Anyways hope you guys like it!

A huge thank you to anyone who reads, reviews, follows or favourites! I will never tire of saying it causes it true, you are all awesome!

 **Summary:** Female!Obiwan/Anakin. Oneshot. We all need someone to lean on sometimes.

* * *

 **Solace**

Obi-wan does not know how long she stares at the wall. Time slips away, only to be consumed by four military-class grey durasteel walls that compose her sparse sleeping quarters.

The quarters are large by military standards, fitting for her rank as a General in the Grand Army of the Republic, but Obi-wan still feels closed in. Confined by her own anguish and sense of failure.

Sleep refuses to come, she is too restless. Meditation cannot ease her mind, she is too troubled.

She is aware that her conduct is inappropriate for the Jedi Master she is meant to be, and that is why she has retreated to her quarters. No one needs to witness her like this.

For Obi-wan is in _despair_. All those lives, innocent civilians, are dead because of her failure to act.

She tries to rationalise it, reminds herself that they are one with the Force, but that thought offers her no comfort.

As Anakin has said on multiple occasions, Jedi are meant to protect people, and she has failed in her duty. They are dead, while she lives on.

It's all her fault.

When she stretches out to the Force to clear her mind, she tries to reach for that endless well of pure energy, the very bloodstream of the galaxy, but pulls up short. She finds no more of a fickle echo from what is usually a reliable friend.

And so she is left to her thoughts, devastating and horrendous as they are. Though she stands within the parameters of her quarters, her mind is elsewhere, trapped in reoccurring flashes of scorching flames, and mutilated corpses of what once were the bodies of innocent togruta.

When Obi-wan surveys her hands, she gasps and jerks backward at the sight of togruta blood on them. The taunting and cruel laughter of the Zygerrian slave masters rings in her ears. Panic rises to the surface, and her heart rate escalates to a staccato.

Closing her eyes does nothing to help and she finds she can't breathe. The flashes occur too fast and too vividly. They are real.

Finally the flashes come to a halt, and blissful darkness is all she sees beneath her closed eyelids. All she hears is her own harsh breathing, as she chokes in much needed air.

Opening her eyes, she realises it is not blood on her hands, but her own sweat, glistening under the fluorescent glare of the light.

Her pulse races, and blood rushes to her ears. The ground is unsteady beneath her feet, and the whole room spins. She collapses onto her small bunker, hearing the mattress creak under her weight as she sits upon it.

Obi-wan places a hand on the blanket, running it over the thin rough spun fabric in a sudden need to feel something tangible. Her hand grasps it, as if she hopes it can keep her anchored in the present.

She takes in gentle breaths in an attempt to regulate her breathing, her chest heaves and she is made aware of her irregular heart rate.

The Jedi Master places her head in her hands, and she finds an interest in the floor, though it does not provide the distraction she wants. It is a similar shade of lifeless grey to the military-grade durasteel walls and to Obi-wan it reflects reality. The floor is cold, hard and unforgiving, just like the rest of the galaxy.

Obi-wan knows that she cannot dwell on such thoughts. The code forbids such sentimentality. But in her state of mind, she cannot bring herself to care.

 _There is no emotion, There is peace_. She thinks bitterly.

What the instructors at the temple forget to mention is that Jedi like all other citizens of the galaxy are living, breathing beings. Flesh, blood, bone, and tissue-all crude matter as Master Yoda calls it.

And like all living, breathing life forms Jedi _do_ feel emotions. They can at times be _vulnerable_. Like she feels right now. Her hold over her own composure is fragile, and threatens to come undone at the seams. Moisture forms at the corner of eyelids, but to her credit she does not cry. The intensity of her own emotions frightens Obi-wan, and its then that Obi-wan realises.

No matter how strong a person is, everyone has their limits. It's just a question of having someone to lean on. As a Jedi Master, and General of the Republic, Obi-wan does not have that luxury.

She will move past this and carry on with her duty, she must, like the Jedi Master she should be.

Obi-wan exhales deeply, and lets her shoulders droop.

She will move past this, but not right at this moment. Not when the flashes can return at any time.

In all honesty, she does not want to be left alone, but to seek out company is not an option.

Though right now, a simple and mindless conversation sounds nice.

She cannot deny that the idea is very tempting, to seek the solace which can only be provided by interacting with another empathetic life form, but she will not, for she is stronger than this. Even if she was to indulge in her foolish desire not be alone, there is no one she can turn to on this cruiser.

Cody is out of the question, it was entirely unprofessional. She must set an example as his military leader.

Ahsoka, bless the youngling, padawan or not, is merely a child and should not have to witness a person in such a state.

There is Anakin...but she refuses to cross that line. He must never see her like this, at her lowest point, drowning in her emotions, the very things that she tells him time and time again to be mindful of.

She is not like Anakin, who's an open book and bears his soul to anyone. He never hides what he feels.

Obi-wan's supposes that she's not all that much better. After all she has retreated to her quarters. The walls of the room serve as both a barrier and a prison. They hide her from prying eyes of other people, but at the same time they enclose her in a desolate space, leaving her alone with nothing more than her troubled thoughts.

She glances up at the chrono attached to the wall, and notices that she only has four more hours until she must return to the bridge of the cruiser.

Perhaps she ought to get some rest. Sleep may not come, but some semblance of relaxation might. Unless she has another episode.

Obi-wan is startled at the loud clanging that comes from the outside her quarters. A moment later, her clouded mind registers that someone is knocking at her door.

She stands up on stiff legs that protest at the sudden movement, and slowly approaches the door. Her lightly trembling right arm extends as she presses the panel, and the door opens in a _whoosh_ only to reveal the last person she wants to see at this time.

As she looks ahead, her line of sight encompasses a male chest, adorned in dark Jedi robes. Obi-wan tilts her head up, only to find Anakin stares down at her sombrely.

His gaze burns into her, blue and electric, and something stirs within her. Obi-wan swallows the bile that forms in her throat.

"Obi-wan," Anakin says, his voice low and raspy.

"Anakin," Obi-wan responds softly, uncertain what to say. He is meant to be sleeping, but he's here at her door instead.

"May I come in?" he asks, and inches forward as he does so.

Obi-wan places her hand on the door frame, and sighs. Anakin has a way of complicating things, and she has no energy to deal with him tonight.

She knows he can sense that she's troubled, it's probably what brought him to her door in the first place, but he's only scratched the surface. If he stays any longer, he will feel everything, all her grief and despair.

And she refuses to let herself be helpless before him.

"I don't think that's a good idea Anakin," Obi-wan tells him plainly.

Anakin's expression informs her that he does not like her answer.

"Why not?" Anakin demands, his brows creasing.

"Because we both need rest. Whatever it is I'm sure it can wait until the morning," Obi-wan says, dismissively.

 _Turn away Anakin, please. I don't want you to see me like this_ , she silently begs.

She steps back from the door frame, and proceeds to press the door panel once more, only for Anakin's flesh hand to grasp onto her wrist. He stares hard at her, as if daring her to try it again.

"Let go of my hand Anakin, and leave me be," she says, irately, trying to cover the alarm rising within her.

"No," Anakin refuses, her wrist still within his grasp.

"I beg your pardon? I told you to leave Anakin," Obi-wan snaps. She is in no mood for his stubbornness.

"And I told you that I am not leaving," Anakin states firmly.

A pained look briefly crosses Obi-wan's face, and Anakin's features soften then. He releases her wrist, and her arm drops to her side.

"What do you want from me Anakin?" Obi-wan asks wearily.

"I sensed that you were troubled," Anakin says, by way of explanation.

"I am alright," she tries to reassure him, but the words sound hollow even to her own ears.

Anakin's not fooled for one moment, he knows her too well, and no doubt detects her lie through their Force bond. He can see through any facade she creates, and she has not the will to raise her walls.

His lips are pursed into a thin line, but there is something in his eyes that hints at a gentler emotion.

Concern-she senses it as clear as daylight. He is simply concerned for her well-being, and in spite of all her reservations, in that moment, it means more to her than he will ever know.

And she will never admit it to him.

She recalls an argument she once had with Anakin, when he accused her of being nothing more than droid, ruled by its programming. What he named unfeeling, she believed to be discipline on her part.

But now, her current state of mind enables her to see his perspective with a little more clarity. Perhaps, there is even some merit to what he claims. It's too late to change her tune now though.

Obi-wan only wishes that the lesson had not come at a cost to her mental health.

"You and I both know that's a lie," Anakin counters, adamantly. His stare is piercing, and Obi-wan is under the impression that somehow her soul is exposed, merely by meeting his eyes.

She shifts her feet slightly, and looks down at the floor. The difference in the sizes of their feet, suddenly seems very curious to Obi-wan, as she ponders how large his boots are in comparison to her own. Her mind is drawn back to Anakin's padawan days, when he (literally) looked up to her and relied on her for support. Those days, however were long gone.

Now he towers over her, and wants her to lean on him. It's irony at its finest.

"Don't Anakin...this is all..." she begins, but trails off as she spies a pair of clone troopers patrolling the hall outside her quarters.

Anakin follows her line of sight, and the troopers salute the two Jedi who incline their heads to them in acknowledgment as they pass by Obi-wan's quarters.

Obi-wan waits until the pair disappears around the corner of the hall, to address Anakin.

As she peers up at Anakin through her lashes, she finds herself the subject of his probing gaze. Her breath catches in her throat; he is much closer to her than he was previously, as he now stands in arms reach of her.

She knows what he wants. Anakin wants her to let him in, literally and figuratively.

Obi-wan is at an impasse, and neither option works out in her favour.

If she lets him into quarters, he will press the matter further and yet if he continues to stand outside her door frame, and someone else happens to walk by, they form a much too suspicious picture.

Obi-wan does not wish to know what the pair of clone troopers thought at the sight of Anakin at her door, and can only hope that rumours will be not be spread amongst the mess hall.

Two generals, one male and one female, both known to be long time associates of each other, talking in lowered voices outside her quarters at an unseemly hour.

 _Much too suspicious_. She thinks.

"Obi-wan," Anakin murmurs.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" she concludes tiredly, and braces a hand on the door frame.

"Well you know me Master, I never did know when to give up," Anakin quips, in a poor attempt to lighten the mood.

Obi-wan finds nothing humorous about this situation.

She emits another long sigh, as a decision registers in her mind. She chooses the lesser of two evils.

"Fine, Come in then," she concedes and gestures her head towards the interior of her quarters, before stepping back from the door frame.

Anakin, as she expects, takes the first opportunity to follow her through the door frame and into her quarters.

He palms the door panel and it hisses shut behind him. Obi-wan is mindful to maintain a sizable distance between their positions, and crosses her arms over chest. The only barrier that she now has against him.

Anakin regards her carefully and waits for her to speak first.

"So what is this all about?" she inquires, though she knows the reason for him being here. She just wants to get this over and done with as quickly as possible before he senses anything particularly disturbing.

"Kadavo," Anakin tells her simply.

She visibly tenses upon hearing the word. The accursed planet, the world of her nightmares.

Images flicker in the forefront of her mind, a torrent of blood, corpses and flame. The hairs on her arms stand on end, and she clasps onto her forearm.

 _You are not there_ , she tries to remind herself.

"Obi-wan?" Anakin says worriedly.

She blinks and the room slowly comes back into focus. Anakin stands before her, and she senses him in the Force. A bright and powerful Force aura surrounds him, reassuring, and even better, he is _real_.

"Never mind," Obi-wan attempts brush him off. "Continue with what you were saying about..." she trails off unable to say _that word_.

"Kadavo," Anakin provides pensively. He appears unconvinced by her behaviour, which some rational part of her mind knows is getting more unusual by the moment.

Obi-wan swallows. "Yes that".

Anakin takes a large, but careful stride toward her, thwarting her intention to maintain distance between them.

He places a strong hand on her shoulder, and gives it a light squeeze. Leaning over her from his towering height, he gazes down into her blue-gray eyes.

"It's not your fault," Anakin reassures her gently. It's nothing more than an empty consolation and she no longer wishes to talk about the matter. She can't, right now its stirs up too many powerful memories.

"Anakin," she says weakly. Cruel laughter resounds from the dark recesses of her mind. Cold sweat trickles down her forehead.

"You did all you could," Anakin continues. Remorse rises to the surface, it is all her fault, and it is all too much.

"Anakin," she protests, her voice strained. Anakin takes no notice as he works himself up into a tirade. Flashes of scorching flames appear in her mind, and she can almost smell charred flesh. The flesh of corpses. Her arms are uncrossed by this point and she holds them outstretched as if to ward off her own memories or defend herself against the chaos Anakin has unwittingly encouraged in her mind with his mention of _Kadavo_.

"It was that slaver scum Master who did that to them Master," Anakin says, a harsh edge seeping into his tone. His anger flares to life, like a spark in her Force senses.

This time she sees blood, hot and thick. She can almost feel the stickiness on her skin. It's not her own.

"Anakin please stop," she whispers, and fists a hand in her hair.

Anakin does not hear her words.

"I promise you Obi-wan they paid for what they did, and now they can't hurt anyone again," he says darkly as if he somehow thinks his fulfilled promise of retribution will somehow bring her comfort.

But the insinuation of violence against their now deceased adversaries only brings more painful memories, and vengeance is not the Jedi way.

"Anakin stop it," she shouts, unable to help her outburst.

Anakin pauses in his speech, gives her a look of concern and inches closer.

Obi-wan's breath catches within her throat, erratic and uneven. The sound of her heart beat pounds within in her ears and blood rushes to her ear drums.

"Obi-wan," Anakin says softly, but Obi-wan does not pay him in attention, for its not Anakin she sees before her. Dark spots blur in the corner of her vision, and distort her line of sight.

All she sees now is death. Corpses of the togruta bodies cover every inch of ground, and form piles as far as her eyes can penetrate. Unbearable scents permeate the atmosphere; the smell of smoke, decay and burnt flesh. At the top of a pile of dead togruta, is the Zygerrian slave master, proud above the column of innocent people on which he stands. He laughs at the carnage surrounding him, and looks down at her, eyes sickeningly yellow. She closes her eyes in a desperate attempt to block out the scene before her.

"Obi-wan!" she hears a masculine voice call urgently. Strong hands grasp at the sides of her arms. When she opens her eyes she sees a broad male chest and the outline of a dark over-tunic. This time she smells spices, and the heat she feels is not that of searing flames but from the body of another _living_ sentient being.

Her breath comes in several heaving gasps as she systemically gulps in much needed air.

"Obi-wan," the voice says again, alarmed. Looking up in the direction of the voice, she meets blue eyes clouded with worry. Anakin, her mind tells her, it's Anakin. And she has never been more grateful for his presence than she is right now.

"Anakin," she murmurs, unable to articulate a full sentence in her catatonic state.

"Are you alright? What happened?" Anakin asks in concern, his hold on her arms tightens slightly.

Obi-wan does not answer, and inspects her shaky hands, sweaty but untarnished by blood. Clutching her hands to her chest, she becomes conscious of her irregular heart rate.

Powerful arms surround her in a warm embrace, and bring her flush against Anakin's chest. At first she stiffens as something in the back of her mind tells her this is wrong, but she lets her posture sag, her still trembling body leans against Anakin's sturdy one.

His chin comes to rest at the top of her head, and she registers none of the words he whispers to her, but finds his voice soothing. A reminder that she is not alone.

She lets go of everything, and welcomes the present, which at that moment lies in Anakin arms.

It's completely improper, and in opposition to the Jedi Code, but she can't bring herself to care.

She had been so far gone, and he had pulled her back to reality. Gratitude overwhelms her, as Anakin provides her with comfort, and solace, a brief but much needed reprieve from her dark thoughts.

After what seems an eternity Anakin pulls back, and holds her at arm's length to survey her features. As he scrutinises her features, she realises that for once she is not bothered by the fact that he has caught her in such a state, and seen her at her most vulnerable.

"Are you alright?" he asks her gently once more.

By this time she has regained enough of her composure and manages a slight nod.

"I'm alright," she breathes.

Anakin still appears uncertain, but releases his hold on her upper arms.

"You better go. Get what sleep you can," she tells him, and brushes a stray strand of hair away from her face.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Anakin inquires.

Obi-wan keeps silent for a few seconds, it's a tempting offer and she almost agrees, but for all that she is grateful, Obi-wan is a Jedi Master, and must rise above such a sentimental desire not to be alone.

"I will be fine now. Don't worry about me," she replies calmly.

Anakin looks reluctant to leave, but exhales deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Alright I will go, but if you feel like this again. Promise me that you will comm me," Anakin insists.

"Anakin..." Obi-wan starts, but is cut off by Anakin.

"Promise me"

"Very well I swear that I will call you if I need you," Obi-wan promises.

Anakin's gaze sweeps over her face to confirm that she is speaking the truth, before he sighs and heads for the door.

"Don't forget. If I sense you like that again, and I don't hear from you I will check on you whether you like it or not," Anakin warns her over his shoulder on his way out. He presses the panel, and the door slides open to reveal the blindingly white durasteel of the hall outside.

"Anakin," Obi-wan calls.

Anakin halts in the door frame, and turns to regard her.

"Yes?"

"Thank you," she says softly.

Anakin inclines his head and a small smile tilts at the corners of his lips.

"Any time Master," he says before he passes through the door frame, and disappears into the hall.

The door hisses shut, leaving Obi-wan to her thoughts.

She will not get any sleep tonight, and she may even experience another episode and yet she feels slightly better in knowing a singular fact.

That she is not alone.


End file.
